Christmas At The Castle
by MarblePlum
Summary: Ron and Hermione fret about doubt, gifts, and most importantly, their first date. Harry and Luna also featured. Happy Birthday, Katie!
1. Chapter 1

**CHRISTMAS AT THE CASTLE**

**Part One**

**By Marble Plum (Nikki)**

**Dedicated to Hermione Granger/Katie**

Greetings! This is dedicated to the wonderful Katie for her birthday. It stars her favorite ship in the world, Ron/Hermione, and another ship that's near and dear to her heart, Harry/Luna. I also happen to ship both couples. :) The fic is set in their sixth year of Hogwarts with memories of past years popping up. For the sake of the story, Harry really did want Luna to be his date for Slughorn's Christmas party and Hermione has invited Ron. Hope you enjoy it, Katie!!!

**PLOT: Flummoxed about gift ideas, Ron and Harry retreat to Diagon Alley in hopes of stumbling upon the perfect Christmas presents for their dates. Some surprise run-ins complicate the matter. Meanwhile, the girls go to the joke shop and emerge with their own presents for the boys. How will the gift exchanges go? One can never tell at Hogwarts.**

_"Ohhh, give me some figgy pudding," _sings Dennis Creevey, running around in the snow. "_Ohhh, give me some figgy pudding. Ohhh, give me some figgy pudding_..."

He bounds through the crowded streets of Hogsmeade, the pompom on his wool hat bopping up and down. His high-pitched singing carries through the tight corners and above the heads of last minute shoppers. In the five years he's attended Hogwarts, Ronald Weasley has never seen this place so packed. Red holly blossoms, becomes small, and blossoms again on awnings. Non-melting snowflakes hang from silver icicles. Mannequins with changing robes pose in the glass windows. It's an ordinary day in their favorite magical district.

Ron raises his collar to the cold while Harry Potter avoids looking at the alleyway toward Borgin & Burkes when they pass it, presumably out of instinct. He doesn't blame him. It'd be nice to have one holiday where they're not fending off Dementors, worried about the Ministry of Magic, or coming across dark creatures, especially spiders. Ugh, spiders.

"_Here we come a-wassailing_....," sings Dennis, squeezing between Ron and Harry.

"Nutter," mutters Ron as Dennis disappears from sight.

"What does wassailing mean?" asks Harry.

"It's probably French," guesses Ron.

"I think it's English, mate," says Harry.

"Oh," says Ron, shrugging. "I knew that."

He didn't really, has always had a problem with retention. His best guides weren't books. They had a lot of words he didn't have a use for. No, he retained knowledge from others, particularly from one person. She was hard on him, yes, but he needed that. She was also patient, and her hair and skin glowed by the common room fire, and he'd been asking for parchment lately just so her eyes would lift from her textbook, and...no, he's getting distracted. They came here for a purpose, not to daydream. Hermione hates when he daydreams during their study breaks. Ergh, no, distracted again. He gives Harry a gentle shove to take his mind somewhere else.

"Hey! What was that for?" cries Harry.

"Don't know," replies Ron, his cheeks red as the poinsettas in front of Ollivander's.

"You're going to have a way easier go than me," predicts Harry. "It's not like I can buy Luna a subscription to the _Quibbler_. She already has that."

"Well, Hermione has read every blinkin' book written, so Flourish and Blotts is out, which is just as good," says Ron. "Looking at the back of Lockhart's book still makes me retch."

"He's a pincushion compared to Umbridge," says Harry.

Ron laughs. "That woman _was _a giant pink pincushion."

Harry chuckles too, eyes Ron for a minute. Ron halts, momentarily wondering if he had a Cornish pixie on top of his head. He knows Muggles like Cornish hens around this time of year and maybe the two are connected. Maybe a pixie is eating meat above him. Harry's look is that searching.

"What?" prompts Ron.

"I thought you guys were going to Slughorn's party as friends," says Harry.

"We are!" insists Ron. "I just don't want to pick a dodgy present! You're going with Luna as friends."

"But we haven't known each other for very long, have we?" points out Harry. "It may turn into something else. With you guys, it's been years. I should think you'd be a little less stressed out."

"I am less stressed out," says Ron, his voice cracking.

"Right then," says Harry with a smirk.

"Where's my bleeding money?" says Ron, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Rather than wait for a reply, he turns around quickly in a circle, seeking any sanctuary from Harry's probing questions. His vision rests on Honeydukes. Floating lollipops form a line in the storefront window. Jawbreakers spring up from a box. Tweeting chocolate birds are heard from inside when a pair of twin girls exit. Girls. Girls love sweets. He loves sweets. Hermione would probably like them. He was too shy to ask for her robe size or sweater size. Once he asked Ginny, and she looked repulsed, telling Ron he was a real git sometimes. That was her first time using git, which was pretty funny. Ron grins and points at Honeydukes.

"Her parents are dentists!" reminds Harry.

"So nobody else will come here for her presents," wagers Ron.

"I've got no leads," confesses Harry, following him to the door.

Honeydukes has always had friendly help so this would be a cinch. Already, a white-haired woman in a gold apron is approaching them with a smile.

"Jelly Slugs?" says the woman. "You guys look like Jelly Slug fans!"

Harry attempts to cover a laugh with a cough. Ron hits him in the ribs. After throwing up slugs following an accidental spell, he's had enough slugs for a lifetime. He has to save face some way so he talks in his best authoritative tone.

"We're...searching for something for girls," says Ron sheepishly. "As it were."

"Awww, isn't that sweet?" says the woman, pinching Harry's left cheek and Ron's right.

The boys wince, frown at each other once the woman removes her fingers.

"Hmmm, let me think of something that might work for you," says the woman. "We've got Acid Pops, caramel-covered cherries, non-pimple forming nougats, flavored shoelaces......"

Harry brightens up. "Can I take a look at the flavored shoelaces please?"

"Right this way!" says the woman cheerfully.

"Back in a bit," says Harry to Ron.

Great. He's left to his own devices, for the moment. Ron glances around, hoping to find a hint as to what to get for her. Without Harry around, he begrudgingly admits to himself that things have changed enough for him to worry like this. Their first year at Hogwarts, he teased Hermione. It's just that she acted so different from other girls that he didn't know what to make of her. She answered every question in class and reminded everyone about the rules. This continued as she, Harry, and himself grew closer. But after awhile, he got used to her quirks. Sure he still liked to tease her but lately he's been trying to be a lot better with his words. He hated seeing her upset, especially if he was the cause. What's more is that the teasing has become uncomfortable for _him. _It's become something else. Something sweet? Like telling her that he knows she got an A or tugging her scarf from behind to get her attention. He's not sure what or why lead to the change.

But it's also why he broke things off with Lavender Brown, following the last Quidditch match of the year. She moaned as much as Myrtle and retreated to the washroom after a wail that rung in his ears. Though she was heartbroken, he knew it was for the best. Lavender was always around him and wouldn't back off, even when he was brutally honest with her. Just last week, she recruited the Patil twins to try to manipulate Ron into sitting next to Lavender at the holiday feast. No dice. Ron asked if he should wear his Yule Ball dress robes and the Patils left in disgust. Here's hoping they attempted to convince Lavender to give it up, due to his abhorrent fashion sense.

When Ron turns the corner, he spies someone he disgusts who has tailored, pricey clothes. Draco Malfoy flicks a red licorice dart at an unsuspecting Ravenclaw girl, his drones Crabbe and Goyle chuckling. The girl yelps and runs down the aisle. Ron shakes his head and starts to walk away.

"Hey Weasley!" yells Malfoy. "Making the most of your father's Christmas bonus?"

Gritting his teeth, debating whether to turn around or not, Ron faces him with an eye roll. He was really tired of Malfoy's jabs at his finances and his father's respectable Ministry job. Just because the Malfoys come from money doesn't mean he has to rub it in.

"I don't have time for this," says Ron.

"Saw Potter with you," says Malfoy. "Are you buying your friend a gift? Is he your boyfriend?"

Ron sneers at him. He should go. Malfoy couldn't taunt him if he wasn't there. Only Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle are trailing him now, clearly anxious to bother him.

"Or is it for your other friend, that filthy little Mudblood?" asks Malfoy.

Wow, the ugliest term he's heard at Hogwarts, and about the sixth time Malfoy's said it in his presence. Ron knows exactly who he's referring to. Hermione did nothing to deserve that label or Malfoy's malice. Ron stops in his tracks and walks over to look Malfoy directly in the face. Draco scowls as if he's the one being insulted and draws his wand. Ron has a good three inches on him and regardless of Crabbe and Goyle, he'd take him. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a group of Gryffindors gathering, including Harry. He's glad he's not alone but he won't let that show.

"Go on," encourages Ron. "Go on, you lemon-headed wanker."

"What'd you call me?" exclaims Malfoy.

"You heard me, yob!" says Ron. "Anybody connected to Muggles and you get on your high horse like a regular tosser. At least Harry and Hermione weren't part of some lame Inquisitorial Squad that lasted less than a year. I didn't see that Squad fighting against the Dark Lord."

Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and especially Harry chuckle quietly. Malfoy crosses his arms.

"I'll have you know I've moved on to bigger and better things this year," defends Malfoy.

"Like what?" challenges Ron.

"This I'd like to hear," speaks up Harry.

Instead, Malfoy goes uncharacteristically mute, staring over their heads. Ron views Narcissa, beckoning Malfoy to her.

"You're lucky I have _important _family business to attend to," says Malfoy.

He brushes past Ron, glaring at the other Gryffindors on the way.

Ron beams. Whoa, did that really happen? Did he stand up to Malfoy? What lead him to do it? Could it have been the mentioning of her name? It's been like that before. He pats his chest to see if he's still there, still the winner of their verbal spat. His friends confirm it by clapping soundly.

"Brilliant," congratulates Harry.

"It was nothing," says Ron, blushing.

"I got Luna shoelaces," says Harry. "This way, even if somebody takes her shoes, she'll always have laces. Oh and of course the decorations for her nargle necklace."

Harry holds up a basket of flavored shoelaces: strawberry, grape, apple, and cream soda. Next to the packages sits a box of butterbear caps, the very same that adorn Luna's everpresent necklace to keep away nargles.

"Oh no," groans Ron.

"What is it?" says Harry, tenderly holding his purchases.

"You're being all...thoughtful," says Ron, then letting his voice drop.

"That isn't the idea?" says Harry.

"That's a totally Luna gift!" cries Ron. "You're making me look bad."

"Well, you're defending Hermione's honor," says Harry. "I mean, you don't get more thoughtful than that."

Ron holds up a finger to make a point only to stare cluelessly at his best friend. Heh, he's right.

"Just transfer the thoughtfulness to a gift," recommends Harry. "That's all."

That's easy for him to say. Luna is constantly spouting off unfamiliar, but memorable things without Harry having to ask. Since Hermione thought he had "the emotional range of a teaspoon", she wasn't as forthcoming with him about her feelings. In fact, that had lead to many a stumble between them. He didn't believe her when she said somebody asked her to the Yule Ball. Then, he had to swallow in the sight of her dancing the entire night with Krom. With his luggish feet, adds Ron mentally. She said she would've been willing to go with him if he asked but that was after the Ball was over. What did she want him to do? Okay, he kind of suspected what she wanted. Still, that was only "kind of". This year, she refused to hang around with him and Lavender. It might've been because they were snogging right before she showed up but if she asked them not to do it, he would've told Lavender to rest her lips for a spell. So imagine his surprise when she sat down on the couch of the common room where he was sitting, grimacing at the new green R sweater his mother knitted, and invited him to the party.

_"Ummm, nice sweater," said Hermione._

_Ron glanced at her and then they both speedily stared at the fireplace, as if Sirius were speaking to them from the fire again. That's not possible, thought Ron sadly. He wrapped the sweater sleeve around his arm. After Hermione stayed with the Weasleys at Grimmauld Place, they weren't as hesitant to spend time alone together at Hogwarts. Hermione became his frequent study partner and she'd gotten really good at wizard's chess, which they had more time for after OWLs. In fact, she was getting as good as him, which he'd hate to admit. So there was nothing out of the ordinary when she approached him. Maybe she wanted to borrow notes, he thought. Then, he felt foolish because Hermione would've been the one with the notes and he would've been the one to ask. Ron's ears stung._

_"It's new, anyway," said Ron. "Early Christmas present."_

_"If your mother took the time, you should wear it at least once," said Hermione. "Around the house if you're so bothered."_

_"Any place where Dean and Seamus won't be," mumbled Ron._

_Hermione crossed her legs, and shifted her robe. She clenched and unclenched her hands. Was she waiting for him to say something else? He guessed the gentle scolding was over at any rate._

_"I heard...about you and Lavender," said Hermione. _

_"Right," said Ron. "But...it was bound to happen, I guess."_

_Nodding her understanding, Hermione briefly touched his knee. They both looked at it and she took it away after a few seconds. Ron cleared his throat._

_"Ummm, has Harry told you about Slughorn's holiday party?" asked Hermione. "He asked me personally to come. I really should study, but seeing as even Dumbledore respects him, and I want to maintain a good average, maybe...maybe I should go."_

_"Slughorn didn't invite me," said Ron._

_"Why not?" said Hermione._

_"We all know he's got favorites," said Ron. "I didn't make the cut. You and Harry did."_

_"Well, one person's opinion shouldn't upset you," insisted Hermione. "Besides, Dumbledore thinks very highly of you, and he's the greatest wizard I've ever met."_

_Ron shrugged, smiled down at his sweater. It was nice of Hermione to remind him of that. He wasn't the Boy Who Lived like Harry, or a Ministry member like his father or Percy, or a top-ranked student like Hermione, but he liked getting a compliment all the same. He didn't get a lot of them. _

_Bracing her hands on the table, Hermione sighed and nodded authoritatively._

_"I think you should come along...to the party," said Hermione._

_"What?" cried Ron._

_"I mean...I mean, since you've done so much for the school!" stammered Hermione. "I'm allowed to invite someone of my choosing...."_

_"So...you're choosing me?" said Ron._

_He could hardly process it. Did she want him to go as her date? A date where they'd be sitting next to each other, like they are now? Where they'd be having conservations, like they are now? But it wouldn't be exactly like it was then. It would have the word "date"...in front of everything!_

_Hermione let out a low laugh and looked away at a portrait, where two lovers were fighting under a balcony. _

_"It's...it's not about choosing anyone," said Hermione. "Slughorn needs to be more open-minded. You'd be supporting a statement, highlighting a theory."_

_The change in vocabulary didn't escape him, nor did the stammering or the fact that her cheeks were flushed. The room was warm so her cheeks weren't red because it was cold. He didn't want to reveal the reason his own cheeks were warm. _

_"Ummm, so in theory, this is a date?" said Ron._

_Reluctantly, Hermione sighed and stared at him. She smiled softly in the dim room. _

_"In terms of being an escort?" said Hermione. "Yes. But you'd...have to accept...obviously. So....do you?"_

_The answer had been in the back of his mind right after she brought it up, because Hermione herself had always been in the back of his mind. When he was avoiding Lavender, it was because she was getting obnoxious. She was a great girl, but way too into the relationship. When he was avoiding Hermione, it was because it was...confusing. He'd constantly ask himself why he cared that she saw them kissing or celebrating after Quidditch matches or holding hands in the courtyard. His mind would swirl with questions. Then again, weren't they a question themselves? Should they stop dancing around it? Should they give it a try? The only way to answer any of this is to give her the answer to this first question, the answer they both might want._

_"Yes...obviously," replied Ron, nodding._

_Hermione hunched her shoulders in anticipation while Ron grinned at his knees. They listened to the fire crackle for a bit until Hermione spoke again._

_"Oh...it's...it's late," said Hermione. "I still have some packing to do for holiday break."_

_"Books?" guessed Ron warmly._

_"Not just...books," defended Hermione lightly. "There's pencils too."_

_Ron chuckled. It was probably his turn to say something. _

_"Um, I wonder how Muggle dates go," said Ron. "I assume the guy...picks the girls up."_

_Hermione gave him a blank look, but laughed anyway. Yes, it was clear to both of them that he was fishing for what he should do._

_"Or...not?" said Ron._

_"We'll...we'll meet here," provided Hermione. "They do that, too. I mean, meet at the same place to go to the same place."_

_Of course. Ugh, why did he get so tongue-tied and anxious around her? It could get only get worse on their date. That's when he decided to get her gift, to smooth things over. Then, the gift could do the talking. Brilliant. Ron commended himself._

_"Half past seven?" said Hermione._

_"That works," said Ron. "I'll be here...by the couch. Standing probably."_

_"Okay...okay, good," said Hermione. "Wear the sweater if you'd like."_

_They exchanged a final smile, Hermione ascending the steps to the girls' tour. No one entered the room throughout their conversation. Luck. He almost believed he'd swallowed Harry's Felix Felicis again. He was going out with Hermione and that's better than luck, better than anything._

"Oh yes," says a voice, breaking him free from his reverie. "You definitely look gone, like your friend said."

Ron shakes himself, the very real Honeydukes replacing the dreamy existence of the common room. The employee who helped Harry is standing next to him.

"Actually, I said he was mental," kids Harry.

"Well, I don't know what that means, but you definitely have stars in your eyes," teases the woman. "Can I interest you in some edible mistletoe?"

"Blimey! A snack that you can use to snog," says Ron.

"Hmmm, when you put it like that, maybe there's something else," says the woman. "Oh I know! You can take advantage of our Build A Basket sale. You personally select what to give the person and we arrange the basket for you."

That did sound good. That way, if one item was totally wrong, she'd have a few others that might be right. Plus it was personal. Ron removes his Galleons from his pocket. If only he had unlimited funds. He glances over at Harry, who raises his eyebrows in amusement.

"This is thoughtful?" asks Ron.

"Definitely," says Harry.

"I'll go with that, then," says Ron.

Harry claps Ron on the back, the woman hurrying to collect a wide golden basket with a pretty purple ribbon on the top. Hermione liked purple. This is working out already.

The door of Honeydukes swings open. A familiar, tall, fully smiling student comes in with two other guys in tow. Ron squints his eyes. Cormac McLaggen, his former rival for Keeper and beloved member of the Slug Club, picks up a bouquet of rose-shaped lollipops and sniffs them. His buddies elbow him.

"Think that'll do the trick, Cor?" asks his friends.

"Are you kidding?" says Cormac. "I've been chatting Granger up for days. What girl would turn down Slughorn's favorite member?"

Ron wrinkles his nose in confusion. Did he mean Hermione? He thought she couldn't stand him, and who could blame her? Cormac was a cocky little cockroach. At least Krom was good at Quidditch, not that Ron was Krom's biggest fan anymore. But Hermione didn't keep in touch with Krom that much anymore. Cormac is ten times worse and they've been getting closer?

"I thought he liked Harry best," says his other friend.

"Alright, it's a race between us," waves off Cormac. "But once I'm dating Hermione, we'll be top of the heap. A power couple. Why wouldn't she want to hook up? I mean, I'm buying her the most expensive thing in the store."

"You sure know how to treat a girl, Cor," says the first friend who spoke.

"It's all in the wallet," says Cormac. "Girls like to be impressed. It makes them hot."

"Gross," whispers Harry.

Ron shushes him. He had to find out if Hermione was interested or if Cormac is simply bluffing. If he isn't, why would Hermione ask him out? Why would she say nothing to him between then and now? The party is tomorrow.

"You're a step up from Weasley, that's for sure," assures Cormac's other friend.

"I know," says Cormac, tugging at his tie. "But Ron and Hermione? That's all a load of nothing. People kept saying that they suspected something and it's nothing. What is Weasley? Nothing."

Dropping his eyes, Ron steadies himself, because he feels a sudden urge to drop into the aisle and sulk. If this is who he is going to be with at the Slughorn Christmas party, he'd rather stay away. Even if Hermione did like him, she wouldn't by the end of the night with slime like Cormac bashing him. She'd start believing it, and he might start believing it himself, if he doesn't already. Ron shakes his head and walks past Harry.

"What about the gift?" asks Harry from behind.

He heads for the exit, momentarily staring at the woman who waves the empty basket at him. He might come back, or might not. But he can't stay here.

"What about it?" says Ron, pushing his way out of Honeydukes.

**To be continued...**


	2. Part Two

**CHRISTMAS AT THE CASTLE**

**Part Two**

**By Marble Plum (Nikki)**

**Dedicated to Hermione Granger/Katie**

"They're quite beautiful really, wrackspurts," comments Luna Lovegood, holding the door open for Hermione Granger. "And not just through Spectrespecs. In fact, I'd wager they're cuter than Pygmy Puffs."

Coincidentally, the two girls pass a cage of the pink and purple puffy creatures as they enter Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The Pygmy Puffs squeak after hearing Luna's assessment, though Hermione doesn't want to entertain the idea of them being offended. She's still trying to wrap her head around the fact that something like Spectrespecs are of any real use. They help you see the wrackspurts buzzing around someone's head as they go into your brain? Really? While Luna's wealth of knowledge holds nuggets she simply can't grasp sometimes, Hermione wouldn't mind having an item that lets her see what's going on inside a boy's head.

She lets the thought sink in. After six years, you'd think she'd have Ron Weasley figured out. But the mysteries of boys are not easily explained in books, if at all. For that matter, neither are _her_ actions. For example, why did she feel absolutely gutted when Lavender kissed Ron after the Quidditch match? She sent those birds at him faster than a Nimbus 2001. Why did she want to throw up her pumpkin juice whenever they walked into the dining hall together? She couldn't even sit in close proximity to them when they _weren't_ playing tonsil hockey. Or maybe she did know the reason, but isn't about to admit it to anybody, especially not to him. It was just all madness, simply madness.

If she's looking for more madness, she's come to the right place. The popular Wildfire Whiz-bangs whir above them, the shiny fireworks floating from ceiling corner to ceiling corner. They look far more contained here than when they chased Umbridge down. Extendable Ear boxes sit on a green table opposite Hermione, and she's thankful Crookshanks isn't here to knock the display down. Her cat loves playing with those little strings. Personally, she wouldn't mind elbowing the tripod-shaped display of punching telescopes. They had certainly caused her enough grief what with that unfortunate black eye one of them gave her. However, the sight of them is a small sacrifice to make in order to do what she came here to do.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes is the proper place to come. Hermione congratulates herself on having a good memory, remembering that the last time they came to Ron's brothers' shop, he wasn't able to afford anything and left dazed and dejected. He obviously craved something in here. Hermione couldn't fathom what for the life of her. Half the products in here are so silly. The Love Potions, in particular, possess no substance and are way too distracting, even if they smell like parchment and freshly mown grass. The bottles of brightly colored liquids glitter under the light of the spangling fireworks. Wow. Hermione covers her nose.

"I always like coming here," says Luna. "Hmmm, smells like...pudding."

"I wouldn't be too keen on those if I were you," says Hermione, raising her eyebrows at Luna. "Girls have been trying to sneak Harry a few of those since the beginning of term."

"Oh, that's alright," says Luna. "He's very popular."

Hermione shakes her head. Leave it to Luna to have no jealous tendencies. Truthfully, she'd like to say the same. That's hard, especially since a girl with bountiful blonde hair enters the store, with a Parvati twin on either side of her. Lavender Brown pats the pink scarf tied around her hair and sets off in another direction. Good, thinks Hermione. She can avoid me and I can avoid her. Besides, it would be more awkward if Lavender knew that Ron was going to Slughorn's party with someone else, namely her.

"Did Ron tell you what he wanted?" asks Luna.

"No, I'm afraid," replies Hermione. "I'm going to dread doing it, but it looks like I'm going to have to interrogate George and Fred."

"Twins fascinate me," says Luna without blinking.

"Ummm, right," says Hermione. "Let's go."

Fred and George Weasley are in their usual spot. That is, they're trying to haggle over prices with earnest, excited Hogwarts students holding their Christmas cash. Only, they've dressed up for the occasion. They aren't wearing the usual magenta robes. Fred is in a nice red suit with a spinning green tie, and George is in green with a spinning red tie. Each suit has a few gold buttons with a W on the front. They have just made a sale to Romilda Vane. Hermione smirks. It's yet another Love Potion. She'd have to warn Harry that another one is coming.

"Hi, Romilda," greets Luna.

Romilda grimaces and leaves Fred and George snickering after her.

"It's like catnip for the girl," says George.

"Speaking of cats," says Fred, noticing Hermione with a grin, "You didn't bring that ruddy little lion with you?"

"Don't insult my cat," returns Hermione sternly.

"He destroys our dastardly devices...," begins George.

"Was the sworn enemy of our beloved Scabbers...well, pre-Peter Pettigrew...," continues Fred.

"And he took a swipe at Ron," finishes George, casting a curious look at his brother.

They exchange a smile.

"We like that cat," say the boys.

Hermione rolls her eyes.

"You're actually putting off a purchase," says Hermione. "As much as it pains me to admit it."

"Could it be Hermione Granger is finally eager to embrace the fine offerings of our establishment?" remarks George.

"Mark this day on your calendar, lovely," says Fred to Luna. "As the day that pigs actually did fly."

"I imagine the wings are white," guesses Luna.

"Like a lamb's bum," says George, smiling.

Ugh, she doesn't have time for this. Plus they've successfully managed to lure Luna into their teasing conversation. Hermione had been the victim of enough of those to not let her friend get involved.

"Ron...," begins Hermione.

"Ohhh, Ron!" cry the twins together, George pretending to wipe away a tear.

"I need to get Ron a Christmas present," mutters Hermione.

"What?" says Fred, cupping a hand over his ear.

"Should I get Extendable Ears?" asks Luna.

"I need to get Ron a Christmas present," says Hermione, raising her voice. "And I know he likes your store so...."

"Ah, this is priceless," says Fred as he strokes his chin.

"She's blushing up a storm, Fred," comments George.

"I am not!" cries Hermione.

She puts her hands against her cheeks, which are remarkably warm, and immediately takes them down. This is what she was dreading. They couldn't give their brother peace and therefore any matter involving their brother wouldn't be given any peace either.

"We're in a charitable mood, this being Christmas and all," says George.

"And we happen to have the perfect gift," says Fred.

"This isn't going to turn his tongue purple, is it?" asks Hermione cautiously.

"Would we...would we do that to our own brother?" says Fred with faux shock.

"Yes," answers Luna, playing with her hair.

George frowns, Hermione relishing that Luna has proven herself far less gullible than they realized.

"What would you know about it, then?" says George to her.

"What is the gift?" says Hermione.

George and Fred simulatenously throw up their hands. They both disappear inside a closet and Hermione hears a light rustling. Whatever it is, she hopes it's not too costly. She's had no trouble in securing presents for her parents, Harry, Luna, Ginny, and Christmas cards for the rest of the Weasleys, but she saved the bulk of her money for Ron. It's only because I had no idea what to get, she keeps telling herself. There is no other reason. Right? Hermione silences herself and watches the boys come out with a light brown box.

"It's not a Skiving Snackbox," promises George, handing her the box.

Hermione lifts the lid, smiles for a moment. She recognizes the black bottle which she previously admired. It's the Daydream Charm, the amber liquid shimmering under the glass. This is the only bit of magic she was blown away by the last time she came here. The charm let the recepient have a fully fleshed out, realistic, thirty-minute daydream. Who wouldn't want a present like that?

"We've tested it," assures Fred. "It's now more than top of the line."

Hold on a second. Hermione lets the box fall to the table.

"These are banned at Hogwarts," sighs Hermione. "I know the rules thoroughly."

"Why do you think we didn't give it to Ron?" says Fred, shrugging. "He's been trying to get that for months now."

"He could use it at home," says George.

"But I have to give it to him at the party!" insists Hermione, then shutting her mouth quickly.

"Well, I'll be Confounded!" cries Fred. "This is a date?"

"No...no, it's a...party," stammers Hermione. "Where we are both going...at the same time...on the same day. I invited Ron..."

"Alright, Ronald!" say the twins, giving each other a high-five.

"It's about time, don't you think?" says George.

"Excuse me?" says Hermione, then harrumphing. "Anyway, I can't carry this around."

"This will make Ron's holiday, though," encourages George. "Come on, Hermione. You know how brilliant these babies are."

"Plus you've broken about ten school rules in the past," says Fred.

"What?" cries Hermione.

"Dumbledore's Army...," mentions Fred.

"Brewing Polyjuice potion...," adds George.

"Perusing the restricted section in the library," finishes Fred.

"Ron tells us everything," share Fred and George at the same time.

Breaking those rules were necessary. She had to help Harry or Ron, or the whole school, or the whole country. Of course, that doesn't come up amid their jostling of her.

"Naughty naughty girl, Hermione," says George.

"Honestly, if you two don't shut up this instant...," moans Hermione.

"Did we mention lying about the troll?" says Fred.

"You really are bad, Hermione," chimes in Luna with a mischevious smile.

E tu, Luna? Fine, fine. If this is what Ron wants, she'll take the gift. He better appreciate it, though.

"How much is it?" sighs Hermione. "I don't suppose it's free, like the one you gave me last time."

"You really are smart, aren't you?" says Fred, holding out his hand.

"One Galleon and one Sickle," says George, holding his hand out too.

Groaning the entire time, Hermione relinquishes her money between the pair of them. They grin and slip the money into their suit trousers. This is absolutely the last rule a Weasley willconvince her to break. How ironic that it is _for_ a Weasley too.

"And what can we do for you, Luna?" asks George.

"I saw a gift in your advertisement," answers Luna.

"You two have an advertisement?" says Hermione in disbelief. "Where? _The Daily Prophet?_"

"No, the _Quibbler_," says Luna, smiling.

"That explains it," says Hermione, smirking.

"Cheeky little madam," mumbles George, poorly imitating his mother and accepting the _Quibbler_ Luna gives him.

The advertisement showcases a panel of Christmas gifts under an article on Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. There are, of course, no pictures of the Snorkacks despite some very detailed descriptions. Luna took the liberty of circling a picture of a box. The box holds a walnut-sized gold Snitch that closes and opens, to reveal small glimpses of famous Quidditch players in embarrassing situations. Seeker Aiden Lynch was trying to remove a wedgie in this snapshot.

"Harry could use something to laugh at these days," says Luna.

There is nothing mysterious about that. With You-Know-Who back, and both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds in constant fear of his next move, Harry is under the most stress imaginable. Luna's idea is very sweet. Hermione wraps an arm around Luna.

"Do you think the Owlery is a proper setting for a second date?" asks Luna.

Hermione fails to reply, because she's not sure what to say to that.

"We'll see if we can find it," reply the twins, obviously feeling similarly.

Someone who's far from quiet approaches them in a hurry. Hermione wishes she could fly away as easily at Hedwig. Bags under her bright eyes, Lavender stands right in front of Hermione and crosses her arms.

"I heard every word!" exclaims Lavender. "What kind of girl do you think you are?"

"I'm not following," confesses Hermione.

"We just broke up!" says Lavender. "Then, you come in and date him! You guys are always teasing each other like you don't like each other. What are you playing at?"

"Lavender, calm down," says Hermione.

She nervously looks around. Thankfully, nobody's paying too much attention, not even Luna, spacily staring at a collection of levitating Anti-Gravity Hats. Lavender's very loud, though, and apparently not that interesting. Hermione is already sick of hearing her, that's for sure.

"Well, your little teasing is overrated," says Lavender.

"He doesn't seem to have a problem with it," returns Hermione.

"He likes blondes!" continues Lavender. "And...not pale, boring girls!"

Pale? Boring? That's way out of line and totally uncalled for.

"You're out of line and that's totally uncalled for," says Hermione swiftly, silently hating herself for not coming up with anything else.

"Won Won misses me," sobs Lavender. "I know he does! You're dull! What would you have to talk about with him?"

"Ron and I have had plenty of stimulating conversations," defends Hermione.

"Yeah, about dark stuff," says Lavender, wiping her tears. "That stuff gets old...fast!"

"We're in the middle of a war with Voldemort, you brat!" exclaims Hermione.

That got everyone's attention. The mention of You-Know-Who's name sent a wave of gasps throughout Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Two girls drop containers of ten-second pimple vanisher. One boy squeezes a purple Pygmy Puff hard until it whelps. Padma Patil subtly slides a box of U-No-Poo into its original position.

"That's why boys don't like you," says Lavender. "You are suuuuuch a downer."

"Look, Ron decided that it wasn't working out with you two," says Hermione, shaking her head. "That's not my fault. If you have a problem with that, take it up with him."

Hermione confidently puts back her shoulders, takes up the box and brushes past Lavender, sniffling as she stares at her.

"He likes blondes!" yells Lavender after her.

Unbelievable. Hermione doesn't know whether to feel sorry for her or laugh at the poor girl. In any case, she's better off outside, despite the snow falling down hard upon the ground. The snow sticks to the sidewalk, the crowd of shoppers thinning out. What also sticks is Lavender's claim, the claim that Hermione wasted no time when it came to asking Ron out.

What Lavender didn't know, or anyone really, is that her decision has taken years. Lavender just helped her finalize it. She had wanted Ron to ask her to the Yule Ball, and she had wanted to ask him to go back to the Shrieking Shack, and she had thought about asking him to go with her to the Holiday Feast a couple years ago. There were all these chances she could've taken and she resisted them. It may have been because Harry was in the room or because there was someone else she thought Ron fancied, but she did resist. So Lavender thinking that she's just some opportunist is just that, a thought. She had waited until it felt right.

It took every shred of confidence she possessed to find him in the Common Room that day. He could've said no to Slughorn's party. She never thought she was the prettiest girl in school or the most desirable. That's why she clung to her books so steadfastly. She knew she could be the smartest girl in their class at least. It took a lot of work, even as she tried to mask her doubts about being the smartest too. Of course, the ugly side of being a brain came with it. It was four years before she had an actual date, and she and Viktor Krumm weren't too romantic after the Ball anyway. Except for Luna and Ginny, the other girls wouldn't really invite her to go anywhere with them. They were big fans of teasing her about always knowing the right answer in class. It's part of why she's glad that she stuck with Ron and Harry. They loved that she always knew the answers, and they didn't take advantage of it every time. Add all of these things up together and it became quite clear that she should have failed when she asked him out, if only because he may not have wanted to ruin their friendship.

But Ron said yes. He said yes after all her worries and the chances they missed. It must've felt right for him too.

Hermione grins and shifts the box into her bag. A large shadow covers her and she looks up. There's a carriage, thestrals drawing the large black vehicle.

"Lift to Hogwarts?" asks a warm voice.

Hagrid chuckles and strokes his beard. He's in a large brown coat and trousers, his black boots gleaming with snow.

"Hagrid!" cries Hermione.

"I came in for some butterbeer," explains Hagrid. "Nobody makes it better than in Hogsmeade, though Slughorn is claiming that he'll try. You'll have to tell me after the party."

"I'm waiting for Luna, but yes, that would be lovely," says Hermione.

"Oh, it'll be Harry too."

"Harry's here?" says Hermione.

"And Ron," says Hagrid. "I waved to them through the window. They're getting something for Ms. Weasley."

Ron? Oh, this could get awkward fast. Hermione doesn't wait to hop into the carriage, anxious to make sure that she doesn't find herself in the same area with both Lavender and Ron. One out of two, thinks Hermione, as the door of Honeyduke opens, and Harry and Ron slip outside. Harry is smiling and carrying a large package whereas Ron appears to be sullen. He gazes at the carriage and stares at the ground after spying Hermione. That's not exactly a good pre-party greeting. Hermione crosses her arms over her bag.

"Hey, Hermione," says Harry, slipping into the backseat.

That leaves Ron with the front seat, right next to her. Hermione hunches her shoulders. Ron sighs and sinks into the seat.

"Have you guys finished your shopping?" questions Hermione nervously.

"The _important _people, anyways," returns Ron, not looking at her.

"Me too," says Hermione.

Why is Ron being so cold? He wasn't like this when they were in the Common Room. Did he talk to Lavender? Is that what's bothering him? Maybe he is bored with her. Maybe her asking him out was interesting at first, and then he'd gotten the chance to think about it and didn't want to go anymore.

"You're acting...weird," says Hermione.

"Who's acting weird?" throws back Ron.

"Hey!" pipes up Harry, then remaining silent after they both give him a look.

Luckily, for the three of them, Luna has arrived, carrying a box with gold wrapping paper. Harry stands to help her inside the carriage after Hagrid extends the invite. Luna takes her place next to Harry. Hagrid clears his throat after about thirty seconds of silence.

"Is this a game where we're not talking?" asks Luna.

"Luna!" whispers Hermione through gritted teeth.

"Apparently, Hermione has no trouble talking to anyone," says Ron, suddenly facing her. "Even if she claims she despises them. Even if his name is Cormac McLaggen."

Is he daft? There's no way he could possibly believe she voluntarily talks to Cormac McLaggen.

"Cormac?" exclaims Hermione. "I avoid him at every turn, including Slug Club. Isn't that right, Harry?"

"Please don't put me in the middle of this," begs Harry.

"Ron, I like Cormac about as much as you do," reassures Hermione. "Why you would think otherwise is beyond me."

"I bet you got that git a present," groans Ron.

"I'll have you know I didn't get him a thing!" argues Hermione. "But I did get you something!"

Ron squints his eyes, wrinkling his nose, and straightens his shoulders. She's not sure what those actions mean, turning to Luna and Harry for some confirmation. They blankly look at her. Red-faced, Ron slowly slides away from her and out of the carriage.

"Excuse me," says Ron, then running to the door of Honeydukes and flinging it open.

Hermione stares wonderously after him.

"Boys," she says, scratching her head.

"Did he want us to wait?" asks Hagrid, innocently.

II.

"Bother!" mutters Ron, yanking at his tie.

The tie stays crooked despite his best efforts. Ron winds it around his neck a final time and slowly starts to do it up. He's interrupted by a firm pat on the back. Ron jumps.

"I'm taking off," announces Harry.

"Harry!" complains Ron.

"Oh, sorry," says Harry. "I have to go meet Luna at the Ravenclaw common room. Did you get your gift wrapped then?"

Ron casually glances at the large present near his bed, purple wrapping paper bound around the basket. The woman who had helped them was waiting at the door and said she had a feeling he'd be back. Really? Because he didn't think he would be back. He was definitely going to get her a present, but he wanted to stew in his own grief for awhile. As it turned out, he didn't have to stew at all. Hermione's disinterest in Cormac was confirmed for him when they returned to Hogwarts. While Cormac did manage to bribe Ginny into sneaking the rose-shaped lollipops onto Hermione's bed, five minutes later his sister shoved them into Cormac's chest and told him that Hermione told him to get over himself. Heh, Ron wishes he'd been there. He would be there to see the look on Hermione's face when she received _his _present. He put it behind Harry and Luna's seat when she wasn't looking so the full display would be tonight.

"I didn't know you could wrap like that," praises Harry.

"I...didn't," admits Ron. "Lucilla did. She's the woman at Honeyduke's."

"Lucilla?" teases Harry. "We're on a first name basis?"

"Shut up," says Ron.

"Well, good luck," says Harry. "I can't believe this is finally happening."

"What's...what's happening?" says Ron.

Harry chuckles and helps him get his tie into the correct position.

"Ron, if you have to ask, you'll never know," answers Harry.

His friend leaves the room, Ron smiling at his own reflection in the mirror. Alright, he didn't have to ask. He does have to go downstairs.

"You've been on dates before," says Ron out loud. "Several, in fact. With a girlfriend, in fact. And..."

He notices his fly is only half done. This would be a good point to stop with the pep talk.

"Have to zip that up," says Ron, doing so.

Overall, he looks pretty good. Like Harry, he elected to wear a black suit. Harry chose a festive red tie but Ron went with a white one, just because it might go better with his red hair, neatly combed and shinier than his black shoes. There wouldn't be any more fashion mishaps, not after the Yule Ball. Hermione deserves that far more than Padma.

Ron gives himself a final nod in the mirror, picks up her gift, and starts down the steps. He hopes he's first. It's probably proper manners and everything. Nope.

Hermione stands by the fireside. She wears a beautiful, sleeveless pink dress that reaches her knees, and her hair is wavy, a red necklace trailing past the curls. She's almost too beautiful for words, or rather, that's the excuse Ron makes at he stares at her speechless. Hermione takes a couple steps towards him.

"I was seeing Harry and Luna off," explains Hermione. "I'm afraid she got confused and came here instead."

That sounds about right, but Ron doesn't say so. He better speak. What kind of date doesn't speak?

"Your dress...it's nice," says Ron. "It's soft."

Yeah, that last bit didn't make him seem at all nervous.

"It's chiffon," says Hermione shyly.

"Chiffon," repeats Ron, smiling. "That sounds like a dessert."

"It...does," says Hermione with a light laugh.

They both stare around the common room, as if they haven't been in this room a thousand times. Hermione gestures to the present.

"That's very purple," says Hermione, then biting her lip and grimacing.

"Uh, guess who it's for?" says Ron with a grin.

"Me?" says Hermione, blushing. "Oh, I got something for you. Luna carried it to the party in her bag. I could give it to you there. So maybe...maybe we should get going?"

"We should," agrees Ron.

He cradles the present, managing to open the door for Hermione. They walk, unfortunately in silence, to Slughorn's office. He's never noticed how quiet Hogwarts is during the night. Usually, there was some excitement following them in the halls. He thinks about saying that to Hermione, and doesn't. Great, the half of them that is chicken is swallowing all his sentences. He feels like a right git.

They go down a long hallway, holly peeping out from the corners, trees with red leaves lining the walls.

"There's nothing like Hogwarts during the holidays," says Ron.

Cheesy, he condemns himself. Just utterly cheesy, mate. He can't believe that is the first thing to leave his mouth since they left the common room.

"Pretend I didn't say that," sighs Ron.

"At least you're saying something," says Hermione, briefly touching the arm that holds her present.

Ron grins at the stone castle floor as they arrive at the classroom. There's no need to part the door. Severus Snape opens it, giving Ron and Hermione a long look.

"I suppose you're here for merriment and good cheer," says Snape flatly.

"I suppose so," says Ron.

"Stay away from the Dragon Balls," says Snape, then staring only at Ron. "If you're...wise."

He's not sure if that's an insult, and can't process it since Cormac comes through the door, wiping brown liquid from his lips.

"Professor, I'm sorry about your shoes," says Cormac. "The Dragon Balls...they..."

Cormac halts from saying anything further, covering his face from Hermione as he trails Snape around the corner. So yeah, basically he threw up on Snape, or he's been deformed by Dragon Balls. Ron and Hermione chuckle as they walk into the room.

Slughorn may not be his favorite professor, but Ron could definitely appreciate his decorating abilities. The whole room is red or green, sheer curtains covering the width of the party area. Red Japanese lanterns dot the corners, tiny flames illuminating the partygoers. Green ladles pour red punch into green cups by themselves. Servers in white shirts, including a beaming Neville Longbottom, serve the food as Slughorn makes the rounds, talking to his prized pupils.

"He must have transformed his office," remarks Hermione.

"You Slug Clubbers are living the good life," says Ron.

"It's really not too interesting after the second day," confesses Hermione.

Both of them wave at Ginny, splitting a red velvet cupcake with a fork and giving half to Neville, who takes it, anxiously looks around and bites into it.

"There's Harry and Luna," says Hermione.

They approach their friends, in deep conversation in a corner by themselves. Luna definitely stands out in a bell-shaped, pale red, green and silver gown.

"I love my shoelaces, Harry," says Luna, already proudly brandishing her cream soda-flavored shoelaces. "I'm glad I didn't wear heels to the party. Nargles like to sleep in heels, you know."

"And this is brilliant!" praises Harry.

He holds up the Snitch for Ron to view. The Snitch shows Lev Zograf with popped gum on his face.

"I need my present," says Hermione, reaching for Luna's bag.

"Oh, go ahead," says Luna. "I was just telling Harry about why Patronuses are so sparkly. My father has a theory."

"Really?" says Hermione, locating the box. "I'll have to hear it some time."

"You should," says Luna, then turning to Harry. "Are you ready?"

"I am," says Harry.

He leans into her. Say what you'll say about Luna, but a guy wouldn't be bored with her. Ron actually says this to Hermione as they pass the swooping ladles.

"True," says Hermione. "Myself, on the other hand? I'm only slightly boring."

Ron stares at her, gently brushes some hair from her shoulder. Hermione glances at his fingers.

"We've barely had a boring minute in this castle," says Ron. "And you can't tell me that's not true."

Hermione smiles and dips out onto the balcony. Ron follows her. The air is cool and the warmth from the office hasn't carried to where they stand. Ron clears his throat and sets the present on the ground. Hermione rubs her shoulders with her hands, until Ron drapes his jacket over her frame.

"Thank you," says Hermione.

"I was getting hot," fibs Ron, bouncing up and down twice to get some heat pumping into his body.

Putting her hands against the stone fence of the balcony, Hermione shakes her head.

"What?" says Ron.

"Ron, you honestly thought I'd come here with Cormac?" says Hermione.

"I don't know what goes on at Slug Club," says Ron sheepishly.

"We eat brownies and we listen to Cormac and Slughorn brag about their connections," informs Hermione, turning to him. "Last week was excruciating. Even Harry nodded off. And I would've rather failed an O.W.L. than be in that room."

Ron utters a loud, playful gasp. Hermione laughs and leans against the fence.

"I'm glad you're here," continues Hermione. "It's nice to have a change."

It's nice to have a change? She didn't have to tell him that. The changes they're going through tonight? He more than liked those.

"But it's also nice to remember where you've been," says Ron.

He holds up the present and puts it into her hands. Hermione eagerly tears away the purple wrapping paper and evaluates the contents of the gold Honeydukes basket.

"Chocolate Frogs," says Hermione warmly. "Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans, Licorice Wands, Acid Pops, Sugar Quills."

When he reentered Honeydukes, it struck him. He knew exactly what to get. It should've come to him immediately and he personally believed it was thoughtful. How could he forget the day that inspired the idea? She was as infinitely interesting and cute as she is tonight.

"I remembered what I ate on our first Hogwarts Express," explains Ron. "When we met. But you'll notice... tonight, I have no dirt on my nose."

Hermione glances at him, her skin the color of the strawberry Every Flavour Beans. The color kind of goes with the necklace she is wearing, though.

"I noticed," whispers Hermione. "Thank you. This is...incredibly touching."

"Hopefully, your parents don't kill me for getting you tons of treats," says Ron, leaning on the fence with her.

Sighing, she gives him her gift and clutches her basket tightly.

"Not if Filch doesn't kill me first," says Hermione.

Ron raises his eyebrows and shreds the paper. He tenderly opens the box and reads the instructions. His mouth drops with Hermione attempting to cover her face with the basket.

No way. A Daydream Charm? Never mind that they're banned at Hogwarts. This is huge, moreso for the power of them than the price.

"I've been pestering George and Fred for weeks....," begins Ron.

"You can't use it on school grounds!" whispers Hermione fiercely.

"I swear!" whispers Ron, quickly covering the charm. "Hermione. This is...."

The words catch in his throat. Hermione is smiling and the rays of the moon light her teeth and he can see the small lines on her lips and her skin glows under the light shining through the red sheer curtain and...he doesn't need words at all.

"Ronald," sighs Hermione gently.

That's almost an invitation too, isn't it? Not a formal one, but a request to do something. He puts his fingers against her neck, smooth and delicate, traces of a pulse under his fingertips. A breeze blows through the space between their lips, a space that shrinks as he moves forward. His mouth meshes against hers and they're moving, moving like the snowflakes falling to their shoulders. Ron's hands find the shoulders of his jacket, and he inches her closer until the chiffon is pressed against his adequately corrected tie. Hermione's hand curls around his own neck and he kisses her more intently when her palm rests against his skin. Here is the answer he's been waiting for, coming like a whisper on the moonlit balcony. Could things be more than what they were? The answer is yes. It is more. It's always been more, hasn't it? Yes.

Hermione pulls away, her eyes shining as they meet his.

"Is this a daydream?" asks Ron.

"No, you haven't used the charm," says Hermione, smiling. "And it's not day. The sun's not out."

Yeah, that's what he thought. Ron grins and kisses her forehead.

"I was teasing you," says Ron. "Obviously."

"We should really stop with the teasing," sighs Hermione. "Certain people think it's overrated."

"Nah, now the sun_ is _overrated," says Ron.

They laugh gently, kissing one another as the snow swirls around, as it covers the far ends of the castle, which seems to patiently wait for what's to come.


End file.
